


A Beautiful Soul

by Philosopherscribe



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Love Triangles, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Ramsay Bolton is His Own Warning, Romance, Show Canon Ages, Vaginal Sex, bookverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27548494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philosopherscribe/pseuds/Philosopherscribe
Summary: For kowada25's Thramsay2020 kinkmeme prompt: I want to see Ramsay talk to his wife about how cute Reek was when he took Reek.Summary: When Ramsay rapes Jeyne, both of them use Theon in different ways.A vague sequel to my other piece, A Just Warrior but it can also be read as a stand-alone.
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Jeyne Poole, Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy, Theon Greyjoy/Jeyne Poole
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40
Collections: Thramsay2020 Kinkmeme Event





	A Beautiful Soul

When she had a crush on Theon all those years ago, she had many dreams of their wedding night. Bubble baths full of rosewater perfume. Kisses that tasted of milk and honey. Sweet and gentle lovemaking on a bed full of pink and red rose petals. Even his reputation as a womaniser hadn’t bothered her. In her dreams, he would know how to play her body like a harp, make her cry out in desire between gasps and take her to new, high heights. Theon would be her rakish, handsome Prince Charming, the just warrior who’d sweep her off her feet and make her the Princess she was always meant to be. The bards would sing of their love for a thousand years and they’d live happily ever after. 

In the end, Theon had been a part of her wedding night, just not in the way she imagined. 

Yes, Jeyne had been naive back then, but somehow, even as a child, she had never been able to confess her feelings for Theon to anyone, not even Sansa. 

Especially not Sansa. Every time she tried, the words died on her lips. 

So she lied, the first of a long string of lies that Jeyne would tell in her young life, and told her friend that she liked Lord Beric Dondarrion instead. She even declared she’d marry him at once. And Sansa had never questioned that statement. 

Sansa Stark was born a Princess, beautiful where Jeyne was merely pretty.

And so when Sansa wasn’t looking, Jeyne used to watch Theon in the yard, playing with his swords. He was always so handsome. And from the way he worshipped Robb, she knew he wanted to be a Stark as badly as she did. 

Jeyne was just a little dog that ran at the heels of a wolf.

That little dog had become a bitch made for fucking.

Sansa had once been like her older sister. Jeyne would have given anything to be her sister for real. To be Arya Stark and have what she had in life. 

Arya Stark! The name brought a twisted smile to her lips. If she were made of sterner stuff, she might have had the urge to pull the wings off a butterfly. Arya Stark was a Princess but looked like a street urchin. She was content to run wild and wasn’t at all interested in being ladylike. And her needlework was hopeless. Pathetic, really. She should have been born a boy, Jeyne thought peevishly for the thousandth time. She was half a boy already, but whatever she looked like, her noble blood meant that Princes like Theon would travel distant lands to seek her hand in marriage.

He had never spared a glance at Jeyne. Not even for a tumble in the hay.

Jeyne Poole couldn’t be Arya Stark, so she devoted most of her time to making her miserable. 

Arya Horseface. _It was me made up that name. Her face was long and horsey. Mine isn’t. I was pretty._

Jeyne was not pretty now and she knew it. She had learned the hard way that when people were cruel, there was little animals could do to defend themselves. Jeyne had lived as an animal for so long, she’d forgotten how to be human. 

Jeyne, Jeyne, it rhymes with pain.

A spider web of scars adorned her back, a permanent reminder of her brutal initiation into the brothel of Lord Baelish. He broke her in and made her a whore. Her hair was lank and mousy brown, her eyes were wide and bugged out of her head, like those of a frightened doe. Her little tits were marked everywhere with bites, courtesy of her husband and his Girls. The Girls had once been girls like herself whom her husband had hunted for sport. They had been raped and flayed and butchered to death, dog meat for dogs. Ramsay was cruel to them in life and cruel to them in death. He had trapped their souls in this world by naming the Girls after them, so they could always be with him. They were his bitches and so was she. The things he made them do to her did not bear speaking of. 

She was Jeyne, shadow and rain, but Roose Bolton was a master at pulling a ruse. 

And at last, her childhood dream of being Arya Stark had come true. 

Jeyne fought the urge to scream. 

Absently, she wondered where the real Arya was. Jeyne hated to admit it, but the other girl was the pluckiest thing she’d ever known. Maybe, just maybe in another world, they’d have been friends. She’d somehow predicted that winter was coming and vanished at the first sign of trouble.

That was one thing all the Starks had that Jeyne didn’t. The ability to sense winter coming. 

Jeyne was confident that Arya was still alive, and she wouldn’t be found unless she wanted to be. Jeyne devoutly wished she had the other girl’s courage. The real Arya Stark would have slit Ramsay’s throat long ago. 

Jeyne sniffled, but she could not stop the hot tears from rolling down her cheeks. She buried her face in her hands and wept. She was naked in the bathtub. The water was steaming hot, so hot her skin was raw and sore. Her husband liked her clean and shiny, pink and red, the hues of House Bolton. Theon crouched beside her and poured water on her back. All traces of the handsome prince had been peeled away with a flaying knife. The skin he had left hung loosely on his bones. He looked like an old man now and smelled of the grave, but she couldn’t care less. They were both living a lie. If Jeyne was Arya, Theon was Reek. And Jeyne was the only one who never called him that. 

Theon used a delicate sponge to dab her lightly, and ready her for what was to come. Ramsay had made him her maidservant, if only to torture him with the sights and sounds of clean water. Steam rose up around them like a silvery mist. 

Jeyne wiped her eyes and turned to face him.

“Theon?” She said in a small voice. “I have no one, I need you.”

He shimmered like a ray of light. His eyes were as green as the godswood, green as a storm on the sea. 

“Reek belongs to Lord Ramsay Bolton,” he reminded her, hesitantly. 

Jeyne gave him a tiny smile. “I know, but you could be mine, if you wished.” 

The words had the desired effect. Theon looked gobsmacked. They stared at each other in silence for a very long time.

Theon knelt before her on the floor. 

“I am a miserable wretch, a Turncloak. A traitor to the Starks and the Ironborn. I killed two innocent boys and do not deserve to fight for you. I am just a slave, I cannot give you anything and I am utterly unworthy of your hand. But you believe in me and I swear to you by the Drowned God, the old gods, and the new, that I will never betray this love of ours.” 

Jeyne listened, hardly daring to breathe. 

“Reek is no man, but I am your man, my Lady.” 

The stolen moment ended as suddenly as it began. They came back to themselves, Theon seemed to realize he’d said too much. He clambered to his feet. His missing toes made him stumble so Jeyne used her hand to steady him. Shaking from head to foot, she stepped out of the bath. Theon wrapped her in a towel and they slunk down the hall to her bedchamber. 

A raven screamed into the night. 

The fire in the hearth was like a gaping red mouth and set of bloodstained teeth. Ramsay was sprawled on the bed waiting for them. Half his face was lit by the flames, the other side was shrouded in darkness. His wormy lips slithered into a smile when he saw her. 

“Now there’s a good wife,” he said and turned to Theon. “Reek, you have the rest of the night off. It turns me on when you fuck my wife but I can’t have her cuckolding me all the time.” 

Jeyne felt her stomach drop. Whenever Ramsay had an itch to bed her, he always wanted Theon to be a part of it. And there were seemingly no limits to his cruelty, his imagination. Sometimes, he had Theon watch as he raped her. He would also make him participate in the rape with his tongue and remaining fingers. In fact, now that she came to think of it, he had never fucked her without Theon before. What did that mean? And what new game was this? 

Ramsay’s smile was strange and sly and knowing. “Seriously Reek, it’s almost as if she prefers you to me!”

She saw the resignation on Theon’s face and her heart sank in dismay at the thought of being alone with Ramsay. She should have known better than to think she could predict his games. Ramsay’s wants and needs were ever-changing, and chaos was in his very bones. 

Theon slowly backed out of the room and shut the door behind him. 

“My dearest wife,” Ramsay said, his voice like poisoned syrup, “I have something very special in mind for you. A rare treat, if you will.” 

Jeyne stared at the floor. 

“I am going to fuck you while you and I think of Reek.” 

She nodded wordlessly. 

“I am your husband. I take such good care of you and Reek. You would be nothing without me, worse than nothing. Stinking meat.” 

“Y-yes, my Lord.” 

Ramsay grabbed her hand and brought it to his cock, slowly guiding it up and down. His eyes were like a pair of silver blades.

“You’re really quite ugly, you know that? Especially for a whore. I’ll never know how you earned your keep in that blasted whorehouse. My prick has gone quite limp.”

Jeyne winced. 

“Even Reek is prettier than you!”

She said nothing. Arya couldn’t compete with Reek. In the eyes of her husband, Reek was the good dog and Arya was the bad dog. There were days when Arya almost envied Reek. She desperately wanted to be the favorite dog for once, to produce heirs for her husband and please him in bed. After all, she was the key to his hold over Winterfell, surely he could appreciate her for that. She felt left out of their strange bond and hoped to be a part of it someday. 

Something must have shown on her face, because his feral grin widened. 

“Reek is much tighter than you, and so very cute when I fuck him,” he said pointedly, “why is my creature a better lay than my wife?”

She kept her mouth shut. 

“No matter, I am hardly the first Lord in these parts with a taste for eunuchs.”

And he wasn’t, Jeyne knew that for a fact. 

“You know, I was never really able to figure out whether I liked his mouth or arse better. Until last night, when I tried both. One after another.” 

Her throat felt like it was choked with dust and her voice came out in a squeak. “W-what did you find, my Lord?” 

“I was able to hold off in his mouth but his arse was so tight and sweet I forgot myself, and exploded.”

A smug smile played on his wet lips.

Jeyne felt her gorge rise.

“It’s like he was made just for me, and he was,” Lord Ramsay sighed in contentment, “I made him myself.”

She wondered, and not for the first time, if her husband was really human. She had met many men who raped women, children, and other men, but this just wasn’t normal.

“Well, that’s enough of that.” Ramsay said suddenly. “Get on the bed against the pillows. Spread your legs and show me your cunt.”

Jeyne did as she was told. The candle burning on the wall flickered and died. 

Ramsay climbed on top of her and thrust messily into her cunt. His cock felt like a dull knife digging away at her insides. Meaty hands squeezed at her tender breasts, still sore where he’d savaged them with his teeth. 

Jeyne, Jeyne, it rhymes with pain. 

“I know you love my Reek,” Ramsay leaned in to whisper in her ear, shushing her softly when she opened her mouth, “no, no, don’t try to deny it. You adore him and so do I. You dream of him, he is all you think about, and truth be told, it is the same for me.” 

The thrusts became slower and deeper.

“You love him, and I’m sure it is all very romantic,” he sneered. “Too bad you are both mine. He is my soulmate and you are the vessel to bear my sons. I need you! Both of you. And I will never let you go.”

Pale eyes savored her anguish like it was the sweetest wine. 

“I’m sorry sweetling, I am. So very sorry to get in the way of your precious love! And I don’t even have a reason to keep you apart, since he no longer has a cock. Well, one reason: I enjoy it.”

The words were like a trail of slime left by a worm. 

“So think of him now, think of my Reek.” 

Those skilled hands had spent a lot of time with the flaying knife. Jeyne felt herself blushing softly. Theon’s hands would have been like this, warm, firm, and calloused. Raven hair tumbled over his shoulders as he peered down at her: Theon’s hair. She felt disgusting for having to use Theon this way, but she couldn’t help it. 

“Lie back and think of my Reek,” Ramsay commanded. 

She stared blankly up at him, delirious with pleasure and pain. Silver eyes darkened until they were a familiar green. A wave of heat passed through her. She writhed, and soon she was warm and soaking wet... 

Theon, it was Theon inside her. In her mind’s eye, he was whole, they were a married couple. And they were living together in peace, prosperity, and love. 

Theon was doing so well. Jeyne had been fucked many times by many men, but never like this, never so intimately. She was with the boy she’d loved forever, and this was all she’d ever dreamed of. Her legs wrapped around his waist to draw him in deeper. A moan escaped her lips and her sharp nails dug into his back, drawing blood. The man inside her grunted and groaned in pleasure at the pain. For a split second, the face morphed back into Ramsay’s bitter grin. And then it was replaced by Theon again, and by Ramsay again, Theon and Ramsay over and over until the two men blurred into one and she could no longer tell them apart. 

Despite herself, Jeyne felt an unexpected flush of sympathy for her husband. She knew what it was to ache with love. And they were both in love with the same person. They were fucking each other but in their minds they were fucking him. It was a strange intimacy. And she could feel they were both very close. 

“Reek!” he ground out at the same time she cried: “Lord Theon!” 

Jeyne’s orgasm crashed over her like waves of water. Distantly, she felt Ramsay’s foul seed spurt into her cunt.

“Well, wife,” Ramsay said in a surprisingly even tone, “that was most delicious.” 

“Thank you, my Lord,” she said meekly. 

She lay boneless on the bed. If the gods were good, she hoped to be with child soon. He’d have to leave her alone once she was pregnant. His Lord father would make sure of it and Theon would protect her as best as he could. 

“Did I ever tell you of the wife I had before you?” Ramsay asked. 

She nodded, feeling suddenly on edge. Like he’d thrown cold water over her. Everyone knew the story of how Ramsay had seized Lady Donella Hornwood and forced her to marry him. He flayed the skin from her fingers and locked her in a tower where she starved to death, but not before chewing her fingers off. 

Ramsay’s moods were as changeable as a weathervane. 

He slugged her across the cheek, and her head snapped back. She looked up, stunned, and saw that his face was twisted with rage. 

“You filthy, traitorous whore,” he snarled, “I let you indulge in my Reek because I like it, because I am a good husband to you. Far more generous than you deserve. But if you even think of taking him away from me, words do not suffice for what I’ll do to you.”

“Of course, my Lord, I understand,” she squealed. 

“No, I don’t think that you do,” he said with a tight, strained smile. “Now listen to me and listen well. I’m going to tell you the story of a little bitch-whore, the last wench who tried to challenge my place in my Reek’s affections.” 

“Kyra was my Reek’s last mistress, from the time before he knew his name.” Ramsay explained. “From the first time I saw him I wanted him. And I just didn’t understand why he liked her better than me. She had fucked the creature I loved and I am a jealous man, I wished to have him for myself. So I burned Winterfell. I claimed him as my own and brought her along. I wanted to taste her teats and cunt and figure out what he saw in her.” 

Jeyne’s mouth had gone very dry. 

“Anyway, I soon realized there was nothing extraordinary about her at all. And she deserved a sharp lesson for seducing my Reek. One night, as a jape, I left the keys out for her, knowing she’d steal them and try to steal away from me, with my Reek. Such fun! Kyra and her keys.” 

Her husband’s eyes glinted like two chips of dirty ice. Jeyne sat frozen as though she were carved of ice. 

“I caught them, of course. I made him watch as I made mincemeat out of her.” 

She shivered. The words felt like the winds of winter against her skin. 

“You, my dear, are only one wrong move away from becoming another Kyra. And I don’t give a fuck what my father says. He won’t be able to stop me if I choose to kill you. So back off. Do not try to steal my Reek away from me.” 

The dog called Kyra was Theon’s favorite among all the Girls. Now she knew why. And Jeyne was keenly aware that two of the other Girls, Red Jeyne and Grey Jeyne, were her namesakes. If anyone came to know that her real name was Jeyne, the kennels would soon gain a third pup by that name. The irony was that Jeyne desperately wished she could be a Grey Jeyne. Her eyes were supposed to be grey, but instead they were brown. The wrong color.

“I won’t my Lord, you know I live to please,” she murmured. 

“Good,” he said with a crooked smile and patted her cheek. “This isn’t done between us, Lady Arya. I’ll be seeing you again, very soon.”

He rose up like a mountain and was gone, like the darkness at daybreak. Jeyne heaved a sigh of relief. 

Her cheek stung and her cunt ached, but somehow she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d won this round. She felt powerful. Almost like the Lady she was supposed to be. Her Lord husband was daunted by her charms, by the hold she had over his Reek. She wasn’t just pretty, she was beautiful. A beautiful soul. The beautiful maiden to Theon’s knight. 

Jeyne collapsed on the bed and for the first time since the wedding and the brothel, slipped into a sweet dream. A dream of spring. 

The spring showers came early, and the castle was awash in torrents of rain. Theon was smiling as he’d always smiled back then, showing his pearly white teeth. The filth was washed from his body and he was finally purified. Snow melted into puddles. Ramsay screamed as he dissolved into a tangled mass of pink and red worms. The water swept the worms away forever and purged the world of all memory of him. A flood rose high over the mountains, and everything was submerged in water.

An azure pool became one with her mate, the verdant sea.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make my day!


End file.
